1941 – up at the villa ~ w. somerset maugham

I never thought I’d say this, but I miss long books. Huge, overwhelming novels I can fling myself into, emerging from between the covers a month or so later with messy hair and wild eyes.

My hectic one-book-per-week schedule for Book to the Future means that I have to restrict myself to reading reasonably short novels. There are several books I’ve been desperate to tackle, but I’ve had to avoid for now because I know there’s no way I could manage them in just a week. I am a slow, sloooow reader.

But oh, how I long to return to the chunksters.

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1918 – a double serving of australian classics

Unless I’m sadly mistaken, it seems to me that 1918 was a bit of a quiet year for literature.

Yes, Wyndham Lewis first published Tarr in 1918, but looking at a plot synopsis didn’t exactly do much for me. Intellectual people running around being intellectual? Not this week, thankyouverymuch. After tackling James Joyce a few weeks ago, I’m all intellectualled out for a while, I’m afraid.

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